


Small Wager

by Tarlan



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Community: trope_bingo, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trope Bingo Round 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:49:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris has a secret, and he has a suspicion Ezra knows what it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Wager

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Trope_Bingo Round 2 prompt: bets/wager
> 
> Gifted to **TAMRINM**. Have a wonderful birthday!

Chris narrowed his eyes as he looked across the table to where Ezra was shuffling the cards with a certain gleam in his eyes, surprised Ezra was even up before midday.

"Care to make a small wager, Mr. Larabee?"

"Not betting on that, Ezra."

Light glinted off his gold tooth as his smile widened. "May I take it you are already aware of the... contretemps surrounding Ms. Travis's latest beau?"

"Not going there, Ezra. That's Mary's business and no one else's." 

He kept his tone firm, brooking no argument and was relieved when Ezra placed the cards down in a neat stack on the table and leaned back. He couldn't help the light tapping of Ezra's well-manicured finger on the deck drawing his attention, but then he'd always been caught by the agility of those hands. Sometimes it was hard not to become mesmerized and he tended to indulge only when he was sitting alone in the shadows while everyone's attention - and especially Ezra's - was fixed on the card game he was playing.

Intrigue danced around Ezra's sharp eyes as if he had seen or read something in Chris's expression. The man was far too perceptive, reminding Chris how dangerous it was to have inappropriate thoughts of those hands while Ezra had his attention focused on him. Ezra rarely read a man wrong, and this was not something Chris wanted to reveal about himself to any man in this town, and especially not to Ezra.

"Why, Mr. Larabee. Ms. Travis will be most disappointed to realize her attempts to woo you through jealousy are seriously misplaced."

"Ezra," Chris growled a low warning, swallowed the last of his coffee and pushed up from the table, cursing inwardly.

He must have already revealed more than he intended and he couldn't stick around any longer just in case he confirmed whatever suspicions were already working through that quicksilver mind. He felt Ezra's eyes on his back all the way out of the saloon, only feeling the itch between his shoulder blades fade when the batwing door swung closed behind him. Angry with himself, he stalked across the dusty street, pausing only as he passed by the Sheriff's Office.

"Buck? I'm heading out. You know where to find me if there's trouble."

"Give my regards to those ladies in Purgatory," Buck winked and Chris stopped dead in his tracks and looked hard at him. 

Perhaps in the past he might have headed across the border to bury himself balls-deep inside some Mexican whore for a few days, just to work out some of the anger and frustration, but he hadn't felt like he needed a woman since Ella Gaines stormed back into his life. The merest thought of touching another woman after what he learned from Ella was enough to leave him cold and dead inside. Certainly he hadn't felt any stirring in his britches since that day, except when he thought of Ezra. He'd worried at first that he was seeing Ezra as some female substitute but recognized that there had always been that low ache in his belly and groin from long before he'd had his first woman, and until Ella came back and almost destroyed what was left of his life, he'd never questioned it as he had loved women too.

"Not going whoring, Buck. Heading out to the shack. I figured I could get a few chores done before winter hits."

Buck seemed a little surprised, fondly the edge of his mustache as he eyed Chris strangely. "Figured you'd want to let off a little of that steam you got going there, Chris."

"Ain't you, Buck. Chopping wood will work out that head of steam just fine... and I won't need to make sweet talk to it in the morning."

Buck grinned, finally placated by his response.

True to his word, Chris grabbed the wood ax as soon as he'd finished unsaddling his horse and letting him loose into the corral. It was past midday but the sun was still high in the sky and as hot as hell, so he stripped down to his undershirt and pants. Josiah had once described chopping wood as therapeutic and Chris had to agree. The physical activity took the tension from his muscles, and the routine of driving in a spike and splinting log after log eased the churning of his thoughts. He was surprised when he noticed the size of the log pile after a few hours work. Grabbing a ladle of tepid yet no less refreshing water, he gulped down a few mouthfuls before ladling more over his head and face to wash away the sweat that was stinging his eyes.

The sound of a horse coming in brought some of the tension back and he reached for the gun belt hanging close to hand, only to let it go when he recognized both horse and rider.

"Ezra?"

"Chris."

Frowning, Chris waited as Ezra dropped from his horse and leaned against the porch rail but was otherwise not forthcoming on the reason for his visit.

"Problem in town?"

"Unless you are referring to the usual inebriated and unclean masses... then no."

"Long ride to tell me there's no problem."

"Oh, there is a problem. A delicate one that requires a far more private setting."

Ezra smiled but Chris could tell it was his false bravado smile rather than genuine pleasure. Chris raised his arms to indicate that they were in the middle of nowhere with, likely, no one else around for miles but the way Ezra's eyes flashed to the shack proved he wasn't prepared to take even that chance. With a sigh, Chris walked into the shack and Ezra followed. He pulled a couple of shot glasses from a shelf along with a bottle, sloshing a generous amount of whiskey into each glass before sitting across from Ezra at the small table.

Ezra knocked back the whiskey in a single swallow before delicately licking his lips in appreciation, probably having anticipated one of those rotgut whiskeys that he abhorred. Chris waited with more patience than he actually felt. His stomach was churning, and not just from the whiskey hitting an otherwise empty stomach.

"Another small wager... Chris."

Confused, Chris rocked his head slightly, feeling a little uneasy as Ezra leaned in as if to whisper the terms of the wager in his ear, but he leaned in too so he could listen. Soft lips brushing over his made him pull back sharply. His lips were tingling from just that brief contact, and his pants were suddenly too restrictive as blood rushed to his groin. His mouth went dry and his heart sped up, and when his shocked eyes alighted on Ezra, he thought he'd see disgust or vicious triumph at having proved a suspicion but instead Ezra's green eyes were blown wide in desire. When he leaned in again, this time there was no tentative kiss, no holding back, and by the time Chris regained his senses they were both half-naked and stretched out on Chris's generously-sized bed, sated and lethargic from the intense pleasure.

Ezra shoved a hand against Chris. "You smell, Mr. Larabee."

"You don't smell like roses either, Ezra."

That gained him a grin as they were both coated in a fine sheen of sweat just from ride between the sheets, but Chris knew his own sweat was staler from toiling in the sun chopping wood. Later, clean and dry, with a belly full of food that Ezra had not complained about for once, they lay back in the bed as the sun set, letting the oil lamp cast golden shadows over their skin.

"Never did say what your wager was about, Ezra."

"Let's just say I won." His hand stroked down Chris's side from waist to thigh. "And you already paid up in full."

END


End file.
